I Transmigrate into Detective Conan and Become an Onmyoji

Lin Mo regained consciousness amid a splitting headache.

He found himself standing on an unfamiliar street, surrounded by crowds and the sound of people speaking Japanese. The sunlight was blinding, and the air smelled of takoyaki and gasoline. He looked down at his hands, then touched his face. This wasn't his body.

“Where... am I?” he murmured, his voice unfamiliar too.

Memories surged over him like a tide. He remembered that he had been an onmyoji, performing a dangerous exorcism ritual, when a blinding flash of white light appeared, and then...

“Beika Town, Third Street. This is the place.” He read the words on a roadside sign without thinking, as if the Japanese characters had been etched into his mind from birth.

As he tried to sort out his thoughts, a piercing scream shattered the quiet of the street.

“There's a dead person! Someone's been killed!”

This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. Do not imitate.